


glorify my platinum soul

by themadnutter



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fucked Up Relationships, M/M, POV Second Person, Religious References, Sexual Content, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadnutter/pseuds/themadnutter
Summary: oswald makes a deal with the devilish riddler, and his arrival is glorious.





	glorify my platinum soul

**Author's Note:**

> more super self-indulgent, old fic sitting in my folder. takes place in 4x14.

you’ve made deals with devils before. this is no different.

and so you lure ed to his doom, a careful, sadistic plot behind his back. you loved him, once, but he is no longer what you desire, and you waste no time in telling him this.

ed resists you, as ed resists you in everything – he fears what you will unleash.

but you know what demon you’re summoning.

you know his name.

and you whisper it, reverently, breathlessly, a sacrifice at his altar, and you’ve never believed in a god, but you believe in him tonight.

_riddler._

you expect him to appear with eyes aflame, smoke curling from his nostrils as he licks his lips with a forked tongue. but his arrival is quiet, unassuming, and you uselessly tremble beneath his golden gaze as he takes you in, his most adoring servant.

 _there you are_ , you want to say, but you can’t form words, can only stare at your criminal savior, an idol carved in emerald stone. he doesn’t thank you, just grins and purrs that he’s prepared to work.

 _ready?_ he asks, and you’ve never been more and less sure of something in your whole life, and you shake and shake, unsure how to tell him this.  he laughs – cruel, unkind, every bit the man who shot you in the gut and left you for dead.

the man you asked for, the man you _need_.

_oh, oswald._

you shiver, groan. you remember the cold bite of the river, the kiss of his gun to your head when he demanded you say his name.

 _riddler,_ you say again, a broken record on repeat.   _riddler riddler riddler._

he cuts you off with a kiss, bites your lips until you bleed, smears it with his satanic tongue. pure in its depravity, filthy in a way that feels like redemption.

_say it again._

pride, like everyone you cared for, has abandoned you. and it is here, sinking to your aching knees on the dirty arkham floor, that you find religion for the first time.

_riddler._

he grabs your hair, yanks your unworthy head upward, and you blink at him from behind wide-eyed tears. he shoves your head against his pant legs, then against his crotch, your cheek pressed to a thick hard line that has you trembling again.

 _finally showing me some respect,_ he grits out. _i've been waiting a long time, oswald. you know that right?_

his grip on you tightens, ripping your hair, making you sob in joy and fear, and isn’t that what religion is all about?

fear love adoration, every cell in your body bathed in holy fire, worshipping his being.

you’ll let him do anything to you.

_of course you do._

it’s the closest thing to praise, and you go slack-jawed, panting hard against the impression of his dick.

_make it up to me._

 


End file.
